So this is it, I sold my soul for this

[winswars]

WHO: Connor
WHERE: South Fountain » Inn
WHEN: November 20th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: (Nothing at the moment!)

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Arrival;

This whole entire thing was surreal.

One moment he was on the homestead and live was proceeding exactly as it should have been.

And the next he was waking up in a fountain of all things, completely soaked down to the skin, hair matted to his skin and coughing up water he didn't even recall swallowing. Perhaps most important was he was no longer wearing the assassin robes he had grown so accustomed to, but instead a set of thin cotton scrubs, jet black in color and currently clinging to him uncomfortably.

There is no panic - perhaps there should be, considering he had just seemingly been transported to somewhere utterly different than where he had been just moments before. But all he feels as he lifts himself from the water is annoyance and anger because there was so much that still needed done and he does not have time for this.

Attempting to step over the side of the fountain reveal that his traditional boots made of leather and hide have also been replaced for some foreign pair that make his feet feel heavy and squished. There's no weight of his tomahawk pressed into his thigh, no tell-tale reminder of his quiver and bow strapped to his back.

Everything is gone.

Everything is gone and there is nothing pleasant about this turn of events at all. Absolutely nothing.

Inn;

Being dry does little to actually improve his mood, considering all of his things are still gone and it seems as though there's no getting them back. Having settled in also does little to help. But he's settled in at the very least, having found a room and gone around rummaging through the contents of the backpack he'd arrived with. The cap was a far cry from his normal hood, but he had placed upon his head and pulled it down as far as it would possibly go before journeying any further.

Currently, he sits downstairs, at a table that's been shoved into a corner, attempting to figure out how the watch that's been placed on his left wrist actually works, but all that's happening is his large fingers keep button smashing and it ends up displaying something else he doesn't understand.

At some point he'll finally grow so frustrated that he'll let out a sound somewhere between a growl and loud sigh before giving up, leaning back in his chair and staring outside.

There has to be something he was missing, something he could do.